


Divine Right of Kings

by Rosage



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, features some Hoshidan politics but this isn't meant as political commentary, just Dragon Vein meta and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosage/pseuds/Rosage
Summary: A king must never show weakness. Those with dragon blood are seen as more than kings. Sometimes, Ryoma is less than one.





	

The king’s chambers stand at the top of Castle Shirasagi, where folklore claims he can see all of Hoshido from his windows. Even if this were true, they’re boarded up for the night, a necessary precaution; though the height deters assassins, wyverns cannot be discounted. Only Ryoma’s weary body tells him of the late hour, as he keeps enough torches lit to read reports. 

Despite the torches, the update about a crop failure runs together on the page. It brings him back to studying as a child; until Kagero began to tutor him, he couldn’t absorb most texts, save for a few adventure stories. He would not have admitted it, but what he remembers most about those stories isn’t the battles or grand gestures. It’s a monk inviting a thief to dinner. It’s a lonely boy who roamed in search of himself, and the servant who ended up traveling at his side.

He chastises himself as he puts away the reports. His people’s problems deserve his full attention. He must be done for the night.

“Lord Ryoma.” 

Normally Saizo’s voice would be welcome, but Ryoma suppresses a groan. “Yes?”

“We’ve received reports of a revolt.”

Knowing he must prepare to forgo sleep, Ryoma stands and turns toward where Saizo appears on bent knee. His ninja have been keeping an eye on various underground groups, but he goes on to explain that it is none of them.

“Rice farmers. The weapons they’re preparing amount to little more than farm tools.” Agitation peppers Saizo’s tone. “Apparently, they expected you to avert a storm that devastated their fields.”

Ryoma’s head aches. “I’m only able to do that when the fields have certain Dragon Veins. Didn’t the farmers in question migrate away from one?”

“Folklore contains more myth than fact about the royals’ divine power. To a farmer, you are no less than a deity able to move mountains at will.” The pride in Saizo’s voice is not lost on Ryoma. Being the right hand of a deity is no minor position.

“Yet they hope to mobilize against me?”

“Their faith is shaken. Perhaps they think your power has run dry. It is their own fault; they asked too much of the land. Every farmer knows crops must be rotated. But those fools planted in the same soil for too long, and that’s why they had to move to such a risky coastal area.” 

Ryoma recalls Saizo’s rural background and weighs his words. If the farmers’ reliance on the Dawn Dragon hurt them, is it not his fault? Either way, he denies Saizo’s offer to subdue the potential rebellion. In the morning, he’ll do what he can to earn their trust while making up for the shortage. Perhaps, Ryoma says doubtfully, as he knows Nohr is short on resources—perhaps grain can be included in their next trade. Saizo hides his furrowed brow by bowing his head.

When Saizo confirms that’s it for the night, Ryoma lets his shoulders sag. Saizo’s face softens. It is his duty to recognize any sign of weakness in Ryoma, to cover for it at all costs.  

Ryoma doesn’t want that weakness covered now. He allows Saizo to remove his armor, ending with his kingly facial gear, which Saizo cradles as carefully as a newborn. Ryoma’s bare face is as much of an enigma to most as Saizo’s. As if out of respect for this, Saizo uses his command over flames to extinguish some of the torches until everything in sharp relief becomes soft and muddled.

Truthfully Saizo has seen him in more vulnerable states—asleep, relaxing in the baths, or, more critically, being carried off the battlefield. Ryoma can only imagine what he looked like with blood flowing through cracks in his armor. He can only imagine Saizo’s expression, as his vision had been so blurred he worried that he’d never regain it, that Saizo would have to become his eye. But he remembers a hoarse voice barking orders before whispering questions, assurances, pleas. And he remembers a hand on his brow, his cheek, his pulse.

When he sinks, Saizo is there to catch him, as always, before his knees hit the ground. It happens when Dragon Veins sap him of his strength, though in those cases they must separate as soon as his legs can support him. Now he wraps his arms around Saizo’s waist and buries his face in his chest, soaking in his warmth and the familiar smell of smoke.

“If I were truly a deity, my people would not need to suffer.”

Saizo’s hold across his shoulders is stiff but firm. “You do more than can be expected of a mortal.”

“Yet I ask too much of you.”

“I’ve done nothing dangerous tonight.”  
  
Ryoma presses his cheek against Saizo’s heartbeat, which never seems to slow. “You know what I mean.”

If Kagero saw him like this, it would be her duty to reprimand him, to give him the tools to eliminate such misgivings. Ryoma’s weakness is still hidden if only his heart’s shadow sees.

As he rises, he wonders if the farmers’ plight could have been avoided if he’d showed them his faults. But those faults include a strict need for sleep, lest he lose control of the lightning in his veins, so he can’t think on it further.

Saizo undresses him the rest of the way, his swift hands not asking for anything. If he could, Ryoma would give him much. In that battle where an enemy aimed at Saizo’s back, Ryoma forgot that Hoshido needs his power more. Saizo never let him forget again.

There are things Ryoma needs to make sure Saizo doesn’t forget. Tomorrow, in the midst of drafting documents, he’ll find time to write a letter. For all his public speeches, he does not trust his voice with something so important.


End file.
